The Olympian Soldier
by eatyourhartout
Summary: Sy is attacked by SHIELD, but Fury says it wasn't him. A mysterious assassin and a dangerous enemy is rising. It takes a team to protect the world from aliens; what does it take to protect it from those who live in it? OC demigod set during Captain America's Winter Soldier Post Olympus's Avenger; Post Giant's War. Minor Swearing. [Book 2 The Secret Avenger]
1. Chapter 1

_Sy_

"Nick, you wanna explain why I was just attacked by one of your STRIKE squads when I got home today? Because if you don't have a really really really good excuse, I might convince my friends with magic warships to do something very rash; like dropping greek fire on your house." Sy snapped into the Iris Message. The one eyed director raised his eyebrow at her threat. She glared into the rainbow, resisting the urge to shift uncomfortably in the scratchy infirmary bed. If she was honest, her injuries were bothering her more than the bed.

"Syrinx." The director of SHIELD replied calmly, his expression neutral. Sy on the other was was livid, and not in the mood for the usual obfuscation talking to Nick Fury brought.

"No. Don't _Syrinx_ me. I want to know why SHIELD, or agents who look like SHIELD, has committed what equates to an act of _war_. You do understand that this is the second time I've been attacked this month? And I'm not the only demigod whose been attacked. There have been close to a dozen attacks in the past three month."She was angry and frustrated and in pain. The cabin leaders were badgering her for answers; answers she didn't have. Chiron was worried and Mr. D had delivered her a message from Olympus. A warning.

She needed to get the mortals under control. An _or else_ had been heavily implied.

"Do you understand how serious this situation is Nick? The people, the _deities_ I have to answer too? I'm not the only one who landed in the infirmary because of these attacks. I'm stuck on bedrest with _Will Solace_." The strict son of Apollo had banned her from playing music for a week. Sy felt like he'd asked her to remove one of her major organs with a spoon. She wanted answers _now_.

"Syrinx!" Fury snapped. She glared at him, except the expression on his face was different. It was _almost_ soft.

"Are you alright?" He asked gently. Sy nodded shortly, before wincing as the motion pulled on her shoulder.

"I'm ok." She repeated out loud. And she really was. Sure, she'd been shot and tasered, and she probably had pretty bad road rash, and the pectoral muscles in her right wing were slightly torn and badly strained, and she had a twisted ankle; _but_ , she would be fine in a few days. If the Apollo kids could re-attach entire limbs, what happened to her was nothing for their healing abilities. Fury gave her the stink eye but continued.

"I don't know why you, or your friends, were attacked. SHIELD doesn't have anymore files on Olympus. I personally supervised the destruction of the data." Sy frowned at him, not reassured by his explanation. She been burned to many times by the spy's ability to manipulate the truth.

But at the same time she was relieved that she couldn't taste any lies in his words. Over the past two years, she and Director Fury had come to an understanding, and had even reached a level of personal relationship that lead to birthday cards and surprise appearances at her high school graduation and her many concerts. She had been crushed to think that he might have betrayed her trust. But that didn't mean someone who worked for him hadn't.

"Well whatever you did wasn't enough, considering that I had to have three bullets removed from my body. I'm stuck on bed rest for at least another couple days, maybe a couple days of rehab after that, but I'll be back to normal in a month or so." Fury's fist clenched.

"I _will_ get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, I want you to be extraordinarily careful. Don't go home. Go to that camp of yours. Nobody knows where that is." Sy shook her head immediately.

"I can't stay here. I can't, I _won't,_ put them at risk. It may be nearly impossible to find, but we're facing some other problems with dead or maybe resurrected Roman emperors right now; we can't afford any extra trouble. Especially mortal trouble." Sy paused, letting out a heavy sigh. She looked Fury in the eye, trying to communicate the severity of the situation.

"The gods think you've been compromised. You do understand what this means?" Fury frowned, looking worried.

"When do you arrive?" Sy shrugged.

"We'll see when I'm allowed out of bed." Fury raised an eyebrow. She smiled bitterly. He was too good at his job and she was too tired to hide the truth from him.

"I'll be in DC by the end of the week." Fury nodded.

"I'll send a bird, usual pick up point. 0800 hours. Pack light." Sy gestured to her bandaged shoulder.

"Don't worry. Nothing heavy is coming with me."


	2. Chapter 2

_Sy_

She shivered as the cold wind whipped her hair around her face. New York hadn't quite managed to shake off the last of winter yet, even though it was the nearly the end of March. Steely gray waves crashed onto the shore as she watched Director Fury himself trudge up the beach from where a quinjet had landed. Maria Hill stood on the open ramp, her eyes sweeping up and down the deserted beach.

Even after a week in the infirmary and taking as much ambrosia and nectar as she could safely consume without spontaneously combusting, her shoulder, leg and side still ached from the bullets she had taken. She'd left camp before she'd had much chance for any significant amount of rehab in. She was clutching a cane in one hand. But most everything had healed alright. Nico Di' Angelo had even gotten her some unicorn draught from the Romans to speed up the final stages of her recovery.

"Director." She said shortly as he reached her. She leaned down stiffly to lift up the golf case hiding her sword, slinging it over her uninjured shoulder, she had steel knives strapped to her sides already. She had no idea what to expect, but she knew that she would be facing mortal threats more than she would be facing supernatural ones. It ate at her to know that for someone who was rapidly coming up on her expected life expectancy that she was being forced to add yet another type of threat to a very long list. Fury picked up her duffle bag and instrument cases, before slowly leading the way down the beach.

"How's that shoulder of yours?" He asked quietly. She glanced over at him as they boarded the quinjet.

"I can play again. That's what matters, doesn't it?" The director shot her an unamused look even as they strapped in for the short flight.

"Where are we in the investigation?" She asked quietly. Fury gives her a wry look.

"We? No no Syrinx. _You_ are not investigating. Maybe interrogating a little, after we find the traitors. But not investigating. You, are going into hiding." She shot him a glare as they strapped in for the flight.

"I stuck my neck out for you Nick. I represent Olympus for SHEILD, but I also represent SHIELD for Olympus. That means I'm responsible for my family's interests and safety concerning the mortal world. But that also means I'm responsible for _your_ action where they meet with the supernatural. And now your people are a threat to mine. That makes this investigation _my_ responsibility. Why in the name of Olympus would I let you hide me away from it?"

"Because that's the right play. We protect you and yours from exposure and remove the threat quietly. This kind of leak had to have come from someone with a high level of clearance Syrinx, this needs to be subtle. We don't know how deep this runs." He warned. She sighed, giving the SHIELD directer an irritated look before caving.

"Fine. Where am I going? It's got to be nearby so that I can at least be involved." Fury smirked at her.

"How do you feel about being the orphaned granddaughter of one of the 107th's finest?" Sy raised her eyebrow slowly.

"You know I'm not actually a Howling Commando legacy right? " Fury smiled toothily. Sy knew that look. It meant trouble. He passed her a manilla file stamped _classified_ in red ink. Inside several pages of falsified documentation, re-spinning her life story. She paged through, skimming over her dossier.

* * *

Case number: 9747920

Subject: Syrinx Melos.

DOB: March 22, 1995

Age: 19

Family:

Father: Cade Melos.

Classical pianist.

New York Conservatory, New York Philharmonic. Solo artist. [Refer to page 4 for more details]

Deceased.

COD: Sudden cardiac arrest after battling pancreatic cancer

TOD: 11:54 Spring, 2005.

Mother: Calliope Melos

Career unknown

Missing Presumed Dead [Refer to page 7 for more details]

Notes:

Mother is illegitimate daughter of Timothy "Dum Dum" Dugan and Sarah O'Riley (army nurse).

Custody of Subject remanded to retired Major James Falsworth from 2005 until his death in early 2011.

Captain Steven Rogers then gains custody of the Subject. [Refer to page 12 for details]

Subject is a musical prodigy; appears in many public concerts every year.

Expelled from multiple schools over the years. [Refer to page 8 for details]

* * *

Sy closed the folder, setting it aside with a mild snort.

"Wow. Steve is quite the humanitarian, adopting a teenager right after he wakes up from the ice. Not so good with the whole fighting off an alien invasion thing right after agreeing to take care of a kid, but then again he is an American icon. How _did_ you manage to pull this off?" She shuffled through the paperwork, everything about her life mostly falling in line with the truth; except she had gone to Camp Half Blood when her dad had died, instead of being adopted by a theoretically loving family friend.

"Classified." Fury responded, a small smirk on his face.

"Does Steve even know he legally has an adopted kid now?" She asked as lightly as she could. Fury eyed her with something like amusement in his eyes. She just raised an eyebrow and waited. Fury finally relented.

"He should. I sent him the file last week." Her eyebrows rose even higher at his vague response.

"Does he know how to _open_ that file?" Fury gave her a wry smile. Sy snorted, shaking her head.

"We're going to give the poor man a heart attack."


	3. Chapter 3

Fury

Two and half months of investigation had brought nothing. Sy had been seething after the first attack on her. But that had been nothing to the fury that had come over the usually even tempered teenager last week. He'd had no idea that others had been attacked. It disturbed Fury to think that someone, or something had compromised SHIELD enough to gain access to that information before he'd had it wiped form the SHIELD main servers.

But this most recent attack brought in new intel. Intel he could use. What was left of his heart constricted at the idea that Syrinx being shot was a good thing, but it couldn't be helped. As it was, what little new information he was able to dig up was next to useless. The only truly helpful thing he'd learned had been that he knew that his organization had been compromised.

Now Nick Fury was never stupid enough to believe his organization had never been penetrated, or that there had been spies among his people. But the conspiracy he was facing? Well even with what little he knew it was enough to bring about the end of his organization, but he would be damned before he allowed SHIELD fall.

With an apprehensive sigh, Nick made a few phone calls. Changed a few orders. Made sure to activate one of his many contingency plans. Then he opened his email, praying that what he was about to do wasn't incredibly stupid.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve

The jet's engines whirr as they near their destination and Steve carefully tucks in his comms unit and makes his usual final security checks. Natasha followed him to the back of the hold, her gaze firmly drilling into his back. Steve was struggling to reign in his irritation with the director of SHIELD.

"So did you do anything fun Saturday night?" Natasha asked as she casually made her own systems check. Steve shrugged noncommittally. He thought about the incredibly odd conversation he'd had with Fury almost three weeks ago.

* * *

 _He stepped out of the elevator and into the director's office, unsure why Fury wanted to discuss his next assignment in person, usually he just sent him a briefing packet or another agent told him. As he strode into the office, he heard the familiar sound of soft violin music floating through the air. Stress flowed off his shoulders, and he subconsciously let out a soft sigh. Steve smiled; only one person could create this kind of sudden calm in him. Sy._

 _The secret Avenger and the SHIELD director were both perched on the couch in the office, the director having fixed the teenager with a hard look even Steve recognized as concern. Steve noted the gingerness that Sy treated her shoulder and wondered what had happened. Sy grinned at him, putting the violin down. He noticed how the lines around her eyes tightened with pain. He frowned, worried about what happened to the youngest Avenger. Not that public knew anything about her._

 _It gave him a headache to think about, but according to her a force called The Mist covered up her involvement. All he knew was that that most people think that the seventh member of the Avengers was nothing more than a conspiracy theory. He looked up when he heard Fury's voice._

 _"Secure room." The director ordered, and immediately the room shut down. Fury gestured for him to sit down. He did, perching next to Sy, giving her a cautious hug. She returned it, although she flinched slightly at the pressure on her left side. He let go quickly, worried about hurting her more._

 _"Captain Rogers, your next assignment is classified. Don't trust it's details with anyone outside of this room." He nodded sharply in agreement. Fury handed him a file._

 _"Syrinx is in DC to monitor a potential threat. She, along with several other demigods, have been attacked by a rouge threat. I am trusting you to keep her safe, and help her maintain her cover until such a time that the threat has been neutralized." Steve frowned slightly, turning towards Sy._

 _"Are you ok?" He asked quietly. She nodded, rolling a shoulder uneasily, wincing at the motion. Taking the file from him, she opened it up to the third page._

 _"Officially, you took custody of me when I was sixteen after your old friend James Falsworth died, who took guardianship of me when I was ten after my dad died in honor of my maternal grandfather Dum Dum Dugan, another old friend of yours. I'm just down here to visit for a little while." Sy said seriously. He glanced down at the file in front of him. The dossier sat almost innocently in his hands, as though his life hadn't just been flipped upside down._

 _"Congratulations Captain. It's a girl." Fury said dryly. Sy snorted while Steve's jaw dropped in shock. His head had gone slightly foggy as he processed Fury's words._

 _"And unofficially?" He asked finally. Sy lifted the edge of her shirt carefully, and Steve caught a glimpse at the bandages winding around her waist before she dropped it back down._

 _"I got shot a couple of times by people wearing SHIELD uniforms, even though Fury swears that every agent is accounted for. It's not the first time a demigod got hurt by mortals in SHIELD uniforms. Our lives are dangerous enough without adding guns to that equation. The gods are unhappy, both camps are worried and I've been charged with figuring out what is going on, and stopping it." She shrugged, before wincing in pain. Steve sucked in a sharp breath and reached towards her, almost unconsciously._

 _"You were shot?" He repeated worriedly, scanning her body, reassessing her as he assimilated the new information._

 _"I'm fine." Sy insisted. She winced and Steve yanked his hand back quickly, not realizing that she had been hit in the shoulder too._

 _"Or rather, I will be. Honest. I've had way worse than this." Steve frowned at that. The fact that she had been injured worse didn't make him feel any better. It only really made him feel worse. In that moment, Steve made his decision._

 _"Well, Mom always wanted grandkids. And I've got that empty room." He flashed Sy a warm smile._

 _"Welcome to the family."_

* * *

Steve shook himself out of the memory.

In the two and a half weeks Sy had been staying with him, they'd figured out a routine that worked for them both; and if Steve was being honest with himself, he really liked having the younger girl stay with him. She made him feel almost ordinary, in how she treated his displacement. In fact, if it weren't for tonight's mission, they both would have likely been curled up on the couch watching movies together as they both caught up on things they missed; him by being asleep and her by being sequestered inside the safe and technology free borders of her camp. They'd done that most nights since she had arrived, including Saturday. They'd watched the Star Wars Trilogy; which in an interesting reversal, he'd seen and she hadn't. He sighed as he checked the harness that securely strapped his shield to his back.

He briefly remembered the conversation he'd had with Sy before he'd left for this mission.

* * *

 _He walked up to the door of his apartment, listening to the soft strains of Sy's music. When home, Sy played constantly, she said it helped her think. He teased her once that she was like Sherlock_ _Holmes, playing her violin when she needed to think. She'd glared at him playfully, then sat him down to watch the entire first season of the BBC Sherlock show. He liked the_ _beautiful music she played; it so often brought him a feeling of inner peace he rarely felt, even before he'd been pulled out of the ice._

 _He had come to appreciate her songs, the music relaxing him after long days of work. Even now, Steve could practically feel the stress of leaving on a mission melting off his shoulders, coalescing into a powerful sense of duty and integrity that rested more easily in his chest. He opened the door to see the younger girl swaying gently to the music, eyes intensely focused on a hand made chart, various papers scattered around her; a marker line across her cheek. The scene was familiar. Sy and Fury had done nothing but work, digging through mountains of red tape, hundreds of missions, and thousands of agents trying to find the link between the intelligence SHIELD used to have on Olympus and the people who were attacking her. To maintain her cover, she had to do it almost entirely from home, in his apartment. Leading to the stacks of papers all around his living room._

 _Steve stepped inside his apartment, reaching for the black duffle bag that was always waiting for him at the door. Sy's bow arm froze as soon as he picked up the bag; the small apartment going quiet._

 _"Mission?" She asked softly, turning around to face him. Steve shot her a guilty look._

 _"Yeah. But when I get back, we can finish the movie." He could tell that the smile she shot him was fake, the girl worried for his safety just as much as he worried about hers. Steve felt bad that he was going to miss their movie night. Tonight was supposed to be some action movies on superheroes that he'd actually known a little bit about before he'd left for the war._

 _"Be careful okay?" Sy said quietly, her expression sympathetic. Steve paused in the doorway. He sometimes forgot how different Sy was compared to so many other people he'd met. Moments like this reminded him that Sy was just as much a soldier as he was, and understood what it meant to be deployed on missions for the greater good._

 _"I'll be careful." He promised. Sy carefully set the violin down and dashed to the door, surprising him with a tight hug. Even though they'd been living together for a few weeks, neither of them were particularly physically affectionate with each other, even if they had both quickly fallen into familial roles; almost like siblings , frequently teasing and needling each other about all the things they didn't know or couldn't use. Considering she can't use technology without fearing monsters, and he'd been frozen for 70 years of innovation, they were pretty evenly matched. Steve slowly wrapped his arms around her, squeezing gently. As Sy let go, she fixed him with a fierce glare._

 _"If you don't come home I swear I'll go down to the Underworld just to kick your ass." Steve just gave her another small smile before walking out the door. He glanced back at his apartment as he rushed down the stairs. The music that drifted out into the hall was a lot angrier than it had been when he'd walked in._

* * *

But he couldn't exactly tell Natasha any of that. So he deflected.

"Well all the guys from my barbershop quartet are dead, so, no, not really." He said in a wry voice, trying to push back the still underlying pain of being displaced from his own time. Natasha smirked a little at that even as they heard over their comms that the drop zone was coming up.

"You know if you ask Kristen out, from Statistics, she'd probably say yes." Steve opened the hold, the incoming wind practically drowning out her voice. He buckled on his helmet.

"That's why I don't ask!" He shouted over the noise. He already had one woman in his life; even if she was basically his kid sister, he didn't feel like he needed another.

"Too shy or too scared?" Natasha shouted at him as he walked down the ramp. Steve smirked lightly, even as he backed down the ramp; thinking about the missed movie night.

"Too busy!" Then he jumped.


	5. Chapter 5

_Steve_

The mission had gone smoothly up until Natasha stopped responding to his comms. He had cleared the deck by the time Natasha and Rumlow had arrived. Then each team swept through the ship, STRIKE in position to rescue hostages, Natasha clearing the engine room while making snide remarks about his dating life while he looked for Batroc.

The french mercenary was tough. He could take a hit, and he was smart and skilled. He even punched like a mack truck. Unfortunately for the pirate; Steve was all that and more. When he knocked Batroc out he found the redheaded assassin in the bridge backing up the ship's hard drive instead of helping Rumlow the way he had ordered her too.

That ended up giving Batroc an opening to try and blow them up.

* * *

Steve stormed through the Triskelion, his temper simmering. He hadn't even gone home yet, hadn't called Sy to let her know he was back yet. He was too angry. He was sick and tired of Fury's games. Steve was having uncomfortable flashbacks to Phase 2 on the helicarrier and Sy's accusations that Fury didn't know where to stop when it came to the fine line between security and being the scariest guy in the room.

"You just can't stop yourself from lying, can you?" The director didn't look up from his desk where he was lounging, his gaze fixed on a helicopter that was whirring it's way closer to the building.

"I didn't lie. Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours." Steve snorted in derision.

"Which you didn't feel obliged to share." Steve replied, as he strode to a stop in front of the other man's desk. Fury kept looking out his window.

"I'm not _obliged_ to do anything." The director replies, his voice toneless. Steve sighed, trying to release his pent up anger and frustration.

"Those hostages could have died Nick." Steve tried to reason. At those words Nick Fury finally decided to turn around and face him.

"I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn't happen." Steve was only mildly gratified by the compliment.

"Soldiers trust each other. That's what makes it an army. Not a bunch of guys running around shooting guns." He warned. Fury stood up, anger flashing in his one eye.

"Last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye." Fury sighed and softened his tone.

"Look, I didn't want you doing anything you weren't comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything."

"I can't lead missions if the people I'm leading have missions of their own." Steve insisted. Fury's eye grew angry again.

"It's called compartmentalization. Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all." Steve smirked.

"Except you." He pointed out softly. Fury stood back, his spine going rigidly straight.

"You're wrong about me. Sy is a secret; but I brought her to you. I _do_ share. I'll even show you something. I'm nice like that." Steve followed the director into the elevator. Fury overrode the security protocols as they rode the elevator down deeper into the SHIELD headquarters than he'd ever gone before. He listened to Fury tell him a story about his grandfather and by the end of it the elevator was moving down into a massive hangar bay with three huge helicarriers inside.

"Yeah, they're a little bigger than a .22." Fury said wryly.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sy_

"Can I ask you something?" She glanced over at Steve as he took her guitar case from her and they both slipped into the car Fury was loaning her temporarily. He was picking her up from an open mic at a coffee shop downtown where she had played for a little while, desperate to get out of the house, away from the terrifying conspiracy they were uncovering, even for a little bit.

"You just asked me one." She pointed out wryly. "But go for it." Steve raised an eyebrow at her before continuing.

"You once said that Fury had a bad habit of playing with power he doesn't understand, and can't control..." He groaned as trailed off, rubbing a hand over his lower jaw.

"Sometimes I'm not so sure anymore what I'm being sent to fight for. I thought it was freedom; but right now it looks a whole lot like someone else's agenda. How do you, did you, reconcile Fury, with well, Fury." He finished. Sy leaned back into her seat, her fingers idly tapping her leg as she thought.

"I don't think I ever did. Fury and I rarely agree about his choices regarding SHIELD. Honestly, with Nick; with SHIELD in general, there is always an agenda. The safety of the world is generally on it, but freedom? That isn't always so high on the priority list. Nick has always believed that the safest hands to run the world were his own. It's a flaw. Maybe his fatal one. But his flaws shouldn't change who you are Steve. You're Captain America." Steve shook his head.

"But what does that mean anymore? Before I went under it was propaganda videos and fighting HYDRA. But now? Aliens and gods and Project Insight?" He shook his head in defeat and Sy sighed sadly. What was with the hero types and the weight of the world? All the ones she knew were surrounded by people who are willing to help them shoulder that weight; but it always took them such a long time to realize that.

"I don't know. I think that's a question only you can answer. But there _is_ something I think you should see. Turn here."


	7. Chapter 7

_Sy_

They walk through the exhibits slowly, because even with nectar and ambrosia and general demigod stamina, Sy was still pretty sore from being shot a few weeks ago. A prerecorded voice echoes in the speakers overhead. Words like honor, and hero and sacrifice are used frequently. Steve slowed their pace down even more as they reached the sections on the Howling Commandos, or the 107th; his first team. His old friends. Sy tightens her grip on his hand before letting go. She quietly pads behind him, watching Steve study the displays.

Sy had met a lot of heroes in her time. In many ways, she knew she was a hero herself; even before the Avengers and the Chitauri invasion. She'd also known a lot of people who had fallen across the long spectrum of good and evil, and she knew that Steve was one of the good ones. Diamond can't be made, their formed.

He just had an air of morality that permeated his being that sometimes came across as self righteousness, but he was just a good person, trying to get others to be their best selves. Steve was one of those people who often felt too good to be true.

They stopped in front of Bucky's display. Sy started to back away, remembering what it was like to grieve for her own friends, but he reached out and gripped her hand tightly. She froze in place, cautiously standing next to him. He never looked over at her as he studied the black and white video clip of him and Bucky laughing. Sy squeezed Steve's hand gently. In the three weeks she'd spent with him, more than half of all the stories he told had to do with the many misadventures he and Bucky had had together. She knew of everything that had happened to him, and the loss of his best friend was one that ate at him most.

Eventually they kept walking and they wander easily through the rest of the exhibit, watching the videos, reading displays, Steve occasionally muttering disparaging comments about inaccuracies about his life or pointing out his belongings, sharing stories about them that made Sy laugh. Her arm was casually linked through Steve's arm as they finally made their way back outside, as Sy subtly leaned on him; her leg throbbing where she'd been shot a few weeks back. They sat on the steps outside the museum in the sun in silence for a moment. Sy stretched her leg out as she started to talk.

"All of that is _what_ you are. What you mean to the public, what your shield stands for. But all of those historians, all of those exhibits and displays can't tell anyone _who_ you are. The only person who can decide that is _you_. Whatever idiocy Fury is up too this time, we'll handle it, just like we have every other time the director screwed up. Isn't that why we started the Avengers?" She joked lightly. Steve snorted slightly before sighing and glancing down into his hand at a battered compass. He'd been holding onto it since they saw the section on Peggy Carter. Sy sent him a small smile.

"But if you don't believe me. You could go ask her." She pointed to the compass. Steve looked like he was going to argue, so Sy fished the keys out of his pocket before pushing him towards the curb.

"I'll be ok for a few hours while you screw your head on straight." Steve shot her a grateful look.

"Thank you." Sy just smiled tiredly before limping away.

She had a feeling that whatever it was that was bothering him was going to be important. She had a new lead, and possibly a new problem. Time to check in on Fury.


	8. Chapter 8

_Fury_

"Secure room." The lights dim and shades roll down over the windows. Sy hands over the flash drive Romanoff retrieved. She'd been fiddling with it ever since he'd showed it to her. Carefully he plugged it into the computer before stepping into the center of the room. Sy on the other hand, retreated, leaning against the back wall of his office, her eyes boring into his back. Hopefully this would lead him to all the answers he'd been looking for. The answers that Sy was pushing him to find; especially now that she had her suspicions about his newest project. The Insight carriers. He wasn't sure how much she knew, how much Steve had shared with her; that had been a gamble he wasn't sure he should have taken; but either way he was running out of time. He can't go to launch if he had traitors in his midst.

"Open Lemurian Star satellite launch file." A short error ding echoed through the room. He heard Sy shift behind him.

"Access denied." He frowned.

"Run decryption."

"Decryption failed." Now he was irritated. Sy silently moved next to his shoulder, her eyes focused on the computer screen in front of her.

"Director override, Fury, Nicholas J."

"Override denied. All files sealed." The computerized voice echoed through the room with this damning statement. Fury felt his well tuned sense of paranoia begin to tick up the meter. Something was wrong. Maybe Sy was right about her conspiracy, and it was more than just a few agents.

"Nick..." The teens voice was filled with quiet warning. The director of SHIELD ignored her, glaring at the computer. He had no answers to give her and that worried him.

"On whose authority?" He demanded.

"Fury, Nicholas J."


	9. Chapter 9

_Steve_

Steve walked down the halls of the VA building, not entirely sure why he decided to go here after seeing Peggy, instead of heading home where Sy was likely waiting.

Sy, the nineteen year old he was responsible for protecting. Sy, the musical, winged prodigy who he was beginning to see as family, rather than an assignment or a teammate. A girl who could slowly be filling the hole that losing Bucky had created, and allowing what had always felt like a gaping wound slowly heal over into scar tissue.

The low murmur of human voices got progressively louder as he walked down the hall. A woman was speaking, her voice soft and distant.

"Somedays, I think it's worse. A, uh, cop pulled me over last week. He thought I was drunk. I had swerved to miss a plastic bag. I thought it was an IED." The woman finished softly. Steve hovered in the doorway, listening to the group. After a few minutes Sam wrapped up the session, his expression serious.

"Some stuff you leave there, other stuff you bring back. It's our job to figure out how to carry it. Is it gonna be in a big suitcase or in a little man-purse? It's up to you." Steve wasn't sure what to make of the aching he felt in his hands and feet as he stepped out of the doorway as people began to file out of the room, the slow creeping cold that crept over his shoulders briefly. He shook it off as he watched Sam walk the last few of the members out, having quiet conversations with them. Finally he turned back down the hall.

"Look who it is. The running man." He said wryly as he began to gather up the various brochures and flyers that had been set out on a table. Steve smiled, leaning against the wall as he chatted with the other man.

"Caught the last few minutes. It's pretty intense."

"Yeah brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt. Regret." He recognized that look. It was one he had worn himself. One he had noticed on Sy's face before she felt compelled to play a particularly heartbreaking piece. One he's noticed on so many of his teammates, both before and after he'd gone under.

"You lose someone?" He asked gently.

"My wingman. Riley." He admitted. "Flying a night mission. Standard PJ rescue op. Nothing we hadn't done a thousand times before. Till an RPG knocked Riley's dumb ass outta the sky." The man had crossed his arms, and was determinedly staring at a fixed point on the wall just by Steve's ear.

"Nothing I could do. It's like, I was up there just to watch." He sighed, shaking his head.

"After that I had a really hard time finding a reason for being over there." Steve glanced down at the neatly stacked fliers.

"You happy now? Back in the world?" He asked. He wasn't sure if he was just curious, or if his doubts about SHIELD were manifesting into something else. Sam smirked a little as he glanced down the hall.

"The number of people giving me orders is down to about, zero. So hell yeah. You thinking about getting out?" Over the past few weeks Steve had become increasingly disillusioned; especially after Fury showed him Project Insight. But to quit? Steve shook his head.

"No." He said firmly. The he paused, reevaluating. Even though the records were falsified, he _was_ now Sy's adoptive father, and even if he wasn't actually responsible for Sy, having her around had forced him to make new choices, to see the world differently. He thought about their movie nights, or how she would play him some of the music that was on his list, or how she took him out to see and do new things that were fun for them both that had nothing to do with catching up and everything to do with having fun. And he thought about how his job with SHIELD more often than not got in the way of that; and not in a way that made the sacrifice worthwhile.

"I don't know." He admitted. He knew nothing else. "To be honest I'm not sure what I would do with myself if I did."

"Ultimate fighting?" Sam offered. Steve snorted, shaking his head.

"Just a great idea off the top of my head." Sam laughed. "Seriously, you could do whatever you wanted to. What makes you happy?" He asked. Steve thought for a moment, and came to a startling realization.

"I don't know."


	10. Chapter 10

_Sy_

Sy limped in the front entrance of the apartment building at the same time as Steve. He gave her a puzzled smile.

"Where have you been?" He asked her almost sternly, his bright eyes creased with worry. Sy sighed softly, and Steve gave her his 'Captain America' stare, the one he used when he expected his orders to be followed. No matter how much she knew it was because he cared, Sy was unused to the idea of someone constantly checking in on her, her whereabouts and her general wellbeing. And no matter how nice the difference seemed, it still chafed. For years her only adult role models were an immortal horse-man who used to train soldiers where dying of old age meant reaching 25 and a drunk god on an enforced dry spell for trying to cheat on his wife with an off limits wood nymph. Her primary caretakers had been kids only a few years older than her and had changed frequently due to death or betrayal. Then she'd quickly grown old enough to become on of the caretakers herself. In some ways, she resented Steve for trying so hard to keep track of her, for trying to start raising her when she din't need it.

But as Steve took her guitar off her shoulder, and helped her shift the disguised scabbard on her hip so she could clutch the railing carefully she reminded herself that Steve was trying. Sy tightened her grip before she started to climb the stairs, her sore muscles protesting at the upward movement of the steps, her healed bullet wounds aching from the workout she'd put them through earlier that night.

"I checked out a lead, but nothing came out of it so I ended up patrolling a little. Swept the perimeter for my kind of monsters. Nothing too difficult tonight; just a few harpies, more annoying than dangerous." Steve frowned but didn't argue with her as they stepped onto his floor. Sy shot him a small smile, grateful that he wasn't going to try to lecture her about patrolling anymore. It would be insane for her not too, even if she was the daughter of a minor goddess monsters still tried to kill her regularly.

Their neighbor Kate, stepped out of her apartment in pink scrubs; a basket of laundry carefully balanced in her arms. Sy frowned as she studied the woman while Steve made small talk with her. She examined her hands, her perfectly smooth hands with a short practical manicure. No nurse has hands that nice; and no way her manicure was that beautiful after a shift in a hospital, especially a shift in the infectious disease ward as she claimed. Sy had worked with the Apollo cabin before, had taken her shifts in the infirmary rotation when the wars had called for it. She remembered that spending even three days in the infirmary, not a hospital, had torn up her hands and ruined her nails from the amount of hand washing she'd done. But she decided to wait until they were safely inside the apartment to say anything to Steve; especially because it seemed that he was at least a little interested in Kate.

"Oh, I think you left your stereo on." Kate mentioned casually before walking away. Steve muttered a brief thanks, his posture straightening quickly, shoulders tight with tension. Sy froze, glancing between the door, where music was drifting out of the apartment, and Steve. She backed down the hall, her shoulders tense with fear. While Sy wasn't particularly afraid of anything, she didn't like mortals. She'd had enough bad experiences with mortals even before she'd ever spoken to Nick Fury, let alone attacked by his organization. Chiron had once told her that no hero should ever harm a mortal unless absolutely necessary. And after fighting and killing in two wars, she knew she was capable of killing, but also knew that she hated the idea of it even more than she had before. But she'd gotten shot several times last week, and now she was caught between people shooting guns and the line she had once sworn to herself she would never cross again. Steve motioned towards the window. Sy nodded silently, understanding his plan.

They opened the window and Sy slipped out first. She unfurled her wings and beat them steadily as Steve climbed out next. She reached out and caught him, the adrenaline rushing through her body, numbing the stiffness of her tired body as she silently flew them around the side of the building. Steve signaled at a window and she flew close enough for him to catch the window sill. He climbed in silently and she followed, carefully pulling out two of the steel knives she'd brought with her. When they made it around the corner from the kitchen and the living room Steve sighed and lowered his shield, while Sy kept her guard up.

"I don't recall giving you a key." Steve ground out.

"You really think I'd need one?" Fury replied. He glanced down at something in his hand. Sy finally lowered her guard, replacing her knives in their holsters.

"My wife, kicked me out." He continued. Sy raised an eyebrow, sharing an incredulous look with Steve.

"I didn't know you were married." Steve asked stiffly, beating her to the punch. She knew he wasn't married. Something was wrong.

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me." Fury responded without a missing a beat.

"I know Nick, that's the problem." Steve said, stepping forward to flip on the lights. But when the lamp turned on, it threw Fury's beaten and bloodied face into sharp relief. Sy breathed in sharply even as Fury raised a finger to his lips and turned the lights back off. He raised his phone screen to show them a message typed out on the screen. She squinted at the glowing screen, the letters swimming slightly. Finally she was able to make out the message.

 _Ears everywhere._

Sy's mouth tightened into a straight line. Fury was paranoid, but rarely unjustifiably so. In her kinder moments she called it cautious. But not even Fury would resort to written out messages like this without good reason. Especially because he knows she's dyslexic. Something was truly wrong; more wrong than a small conspiracy or a splinter group with a couple of stolen uniforms. No this was much much bigger than they'd thought.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but I had no place else to crash." Nick continued. He typed something else out on his phone. Sy squinted, reading slowly.

 _SHIELD compromised by enemy operatives_

Steve's eyebrows drew together tightly and Sy stiffened. It was one thing to suspect that the large global intelligence organization was infiltrated, and another thing entirely for it to be confirmed by it's supposed leader. Especially after Fury had spent weeks trying to assure her that she was wrong in thinking so. Not that had stopped the two of them from beginning to build a larger contingency plan in case her theory was right.

She opened her mouth to speak when Fury shook his head. Steve glanced over at her quickly.

"Who else knows about your wife?" Steve asked slowly, reading her mouthed question off her lips. Fury stood up with a slight groan, limping along. Sy wasn't sure how she felt about Fury comparing SHIELD attacking him, to a wife kicking him out. The metaphor felt slightly too appropriate. She checked herself back into the present; squinting as she struggled to make sense of the letters on the glowing screen. Finally she puzzled it out.

 _Just you and me._

"Just, my friends." And Sy wondered if those words were true or simply a continuation of the cover Fury was using.

"Is that what we are?" Steve asked, stepping forward. Sy was also curious, morbidly so, wondering if the man she had entrusted with her life, and likely her afterlife too, considered her a friend.

"That's up to you." Fury replied evenly. Suddenly there were three loud pops and plaster blew off the walls. Blood began to ooze out of the director. Fury grunted in pain and collapsed to the floor. Immediately Sy and Steve each seized a hand and began to drag Fury out of the line of fire when a fourth explosion sounded from behind her and suddenly Sy was flooded with the sensation of heat and wet as she fell to the floor. A loud shriek filled the air, and she was only distantly aware that the sound had come from her mouth. She reached up and gripped her side where the feeling was concentrated and her hand came away warm and bloody. The burning feeling flooded her system as she realized what had happened.

"SY!" Steve shouted in panic, still dragging Fury's body away. His other hand grasped her stiff shoulder and yanked her backwards. Away from the line of fire. She gasped, repressing the pain as she forced herself to her feet.

"I'll be fine." She groaned. Her body's natural responses kicked into gear, adrenaline pouring through her system and her instincts sharpening; forcing her body to be battle ready. Sy felt around the injury, tears of pain streaking down her face, until she found the exit wound. Based on where it had entered and exited her body, the bullet likely hadn't hit anything important. Feeling around she could tell that it was more of a deep graze rather than a through and through hole. All things considered she was fairly lucky, this would heal quicker than the last time she'd been shot. All she needed to do was get her hands on the nectar and ambrosia she has stashed away in her bag. Fury grasped Steve by the hand, passing him something small and metallic.

"Syrinx was right; it's everywhere. Don't, trust, anyone." Fury gasped out. He glances over at Sy, and mouthed _go_ at her as someone began to pound on the door. She glanced at the dying SHIELD director then back at Steve. The supersoldier nodded just as the door was kicked in. She stood up, one hand still pressed tightly against her side. She stumbled over to the window and hopped out, her wings snapping out to catch her. She could feel more blood leaving her body with each beat of her wings, but she kept going anyways. She flew straight up into the air, catching a lucky updraft when a second (fifth?) shot rang out, aimed at her.

She managed to dodge it, only because this time, she heard it coming with her sensitive ears. The bullet still grazed her left wing, leaving a burning streak of pain and searing off several of her feathers. She repressed a howl of pain just as Steve crashed through the window in a mad leap towards the shooter. Sy flapped harder, and shot into the sky following him as well. But it was dark, and he had managed to seriously damage a few of her more important feathers and she struggled to keep track of the shooter. She managed to catch up to the shooter at the same time as Steve but because she was missing several vital feathers, she stalled and nearly dropped out of the sky. By the time she had managed to reorient herself, the shooter was gone. She stumbled over to a shellshocked Steve, his shirt still covered in both her and Fury's blood. She reached out and gripped his shoulder gently, bringing his attention back to her.

"Get to the hospital Steve, don't let anyone know how much we know. I'll meet you on the roof of GW hospital tomorrow afternoon after I check on something." She told him quietly. Steve nodded and started to walk away when he stiffened, realizing something. He abruptly wheeled back around and marched over to her.

"No. You need medical attention." He insisted, carefully grabbing her arm. Sy shrugged off his hand, the adrenaline in her system keeping the worst of her pain at bay.

"I do. But not the kind I would get in a regular hospital. I have something that will heal me in my go bag. I swear I'll be ok. But you need to go. Go now. SHIELD is going to have questions and you're going to have to give them some serious answers. I would start thinking of them now. Fury said that I was right, and that SHIELD has been compromised. We can't afford for anyone to know what we suspect, and Steve? You're a terrible liar; so you need to start coming up with some credible half truths. We have to work together on this, and that only works if none of the bad guys suspect us." She stepped back, opening her wings to catch an updraft, refusing to give him a chance to respond.

"I'll find you on the roof." She reminded him before launching herself up and away.


	11. Chapter 11

_Sy_

She hissed in pain as she touched down on the roof of George Washington General Hospital. She had taken as much nectar and ambrosia as she had dared and was now slightly feverish, but at least she'd stopped bleeding. Her left wing had regrown or healed enough feathers to support sustained flight without the assistance of an adrenaline rush, and flapping no longer made her want to vomit with pain. She sat down heavily, leaning against the wall as she panted. Flying with a gunshot wound, even partially healed, was exhausting.

Less than a minute after she landed, Natasha Romanoff stepped onto the roof, loudly chewing on bubblegum. Sy tensed slightly, her hand twitching between her mortal knives and her celestial bronze sword. The only people she _knew_ she could trust within SHIELD were Fury, Steve and Agent Hill. Anyone else could be working for the shadow organization that she knew was operating within the massive intelligence agency.

"You up here Sy?" The spy asked softly. Sy didn't say anything. The fact that Natasha knew she was on the roof at all was suspicious. It didn't matter that they had been teammates once, or that they had worked together to save the planet nearly two years before. Sy has been betrayed by friends before. She shuddered lightly as she remembered the dark days of the Titan war, when demigods had turned on one another as they chose sides; the Olympians or the Titans. People she'd considered her friends, people she had trusted with her life; trying to kill her and her family, sometimes succeeding. Sometimes, she had to kill them first.

No, battle may forge bonds, but they don't cement them.

She crept silently around the wall, quietly palming the knives into her hands. When she got close enough, Sy swung out her leg, kicking Natasha with every ounce of her demigod strength. In a blur of motion, she managed to slam the assassin against the wall.

"Who do you work for?" She snarled, pressing a knife against Natasha's throat. Before the spy could respond, a familiar voice came from behind her.

"Sy, it's ok. I told her you were waiting up here." Sy turned around to see Steve stepping through the door. She released Natasha, who slumped against the wall subtly, as Sy carefully looked over Steve, her knives disappearing back into their hidden sheaths. Beyond a few healing bruises he seemed fine, which with his accelerated healing, meant he'd probably gotten into a fight of some kind within the last thirty minutes or so.

"What happened to you?" She asked him softly moving closer to give some of the still purple ones a closer inspection. She gave the one on his shoulder a gentle poke. Steve sighed, studiously looking at something other than her face.

"It's not important." The tone with which he spoke made her flinch. She studied Steve more closely. Sy felt her stomach sink as she recognized the expression on Steve's face.

"No." She breathed. Steve stepped forward, his hands going to her shoulders.

"Sy, Nick... he, he didn't make it." Sy staggered back, slapping away the hands that reached for her. Her breathing came out ragged and she flinched away from Steve's attempts to comfort her.

"No. No, no, no, no." She muttered. The smell of blood filled her nose, and in the back of her mind she could hear the harsh rattling breaths the director had taken on the floor of Steve's small apartment. She turned and clenched her fists tightly as other memories began to surface. Bloody hands pressed against gaping wounds, the screams and soft sobs of dying demigods and the empty empty eyes of the dead before someone closed them. The smell of smoke from the funeral pyres curled around her, overtaking the scent of blood. A loud ringing filled her ears as she clenched and unclenched her fists, struggling to push back the memories as grief overwhelmed her.

"Sy." Natasha reached out a tentative hand and Sy turned around, throwing a sloppy punch that the assassin easily evaded. She stood in place, her feet glued to the concrete beneath her as she shook with the force of her emotions. Natasha reached out again, and Sy finally moved, taking a step back; nearly bumping into Steve; who had somehow moved closer without her noticing.

"Don't." Sy muttered. "He isn't dead. He can't be. The rotten bastard is too stubborn to die. He can't be dead. Nick isn't _gone_." Sy whispered even as Steve reached for her again. This time she let him hold her. Warm arms circled her, and Steve tightened his grip on her. She could feel Natasha at her back, her small hand resting on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry Sy. I know you two were close." He said quietly. Sy picked through the pain and sorrow and confusion lacing Steve's own voice. As her brain whirred back to the present, she realized both of her friends were in just as much pain as she was. Sy turned around and hugged Steve back as she began to cry. Her tears came in angry, shaking sobs that tore through her throat, ripped from her chest. Sy wasn't even sure _why_ she was so angry; Fury had caused her a lot of trouble over the years, putting her life at even greater risk than it would be normally since she was fifteen years old, but hearing that he was gone had shattered something inside her.

"Sy, Nat and I are going after the bastard who did this, but I need to make sure that you're safe first. You were working on the same thing he was, and I don't want whatever it is that you've found to hurt you too. " Sy took a deep shuddering breath and shut herself down; just the way she had over and over during the wars as she watched her friends die. Once she was in control of herself again she stepped away from them both. Her voice was horse from crying, but it was completely steady.

"No. SHIELD is compromised, on a scale I doubt either of you can understand, one of the people I both hated and respected most in the world is dead and you, _Captain freaking America_ , have been attacked by the supposed 'good guys'. I am not going to hide now. I can't." She folded her arms and glared at them both. Nat shook her head.

"As great as that little speech was, if SHIELD really is compromised, the enemy might know who, and _what_ , you are and hiding two fugitives in plain sight is a lot easier than hiding three." Natasha pointed out coldly. Sy flexed her wings angrily before wincing at the pull in her abdomen.

"And you're injured. You're a liability." Steve pointed out gently. Sy frowned.

"I've fought in wars more injured than I am now. I'll be healed by the end of the day anyways. I can go with you to hunt down a killer." She huffed, even though the logic of both her friend's arguments was slowly pushing through her mind.

"And in war, things are a lot more desperate. Right now, we aren't." Steve pointed out even as his hands tightened their grip on her shoulders. Sy growled at them both before sighing in defeat.

"Fine."


	12. Chapter 12

_Sy_

She shifted nervously on the small porch. Her sword was strapped to her back, hidden inside a long case decorated with stickers from destinations she'd never been too that Natasha had produced out of thin air and in one hand she carried her violin case, her guitar slung over her shoulder. A small bag sat next to her feet with a few changes of clothing. Next to that sat a much larger bag filled with the few files she and Steve managed to salvage from her and Fury's investigation. She hoped it was enough to stop the shadow organization inside SHIELD before it was too late. Or to rebuild whatever was left if it was.

The door swung open at her tentative knock, revealing a tall African American man. She glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper Steve had pressed into her hand.

"Sam Wilson?" She asked hesitantly. The man nodded, looking slightly confused.

"Can I help you?" Sy shifted on her feet before taking a deep breath. Her mom is the muse of eloquence. She refused to babble.

"Steve said I could trust you, but I'm kinda going out on a limb here." She hedged, trying to straighten out her words. It was just for a little while, until she was healed enough to get back into the field with Steve and Natasha to dismantle the conspiracy she and Fury had been hunting for, and his death had confirmed. The man looked more apprehensive as he shifted to step out onto the porch with her.

"Ok."

"I swear I'm not crazy, but Steve's in trouble, and so am I. And it might be my fault that he's in trouble. I just need someplace to lay low for a little while, until I figure out how to fix this mess." She held out the crumpled note Steve had written hastily, asking for the other man's help. Sam looked surprised as he read the note, then thoughtful. After a moment, he let out a quiet breath, an amused expression crossing his face. He stepped to the side.

"I guess you better come inside then."


	13. Chapter 13

_Steve_

He looks at the old black and white photos on the wall, his friends decorating the birthplace of the very organization that now hunted him. The work he did for SHIELD had always been bittersweet, that he was now working in the legacy of work that had been built by his old friends. And for a while, it had been worth it. He was protecting people, just the way he'd always wanted too. But slowly the work had lost it's meaning, leaving him drifting in an odd state of limbo. One that he'd been trapped in until Sy had come back into his life, infusing it with new purpose.

Steve turned away from the third photo on the wall. It physically hurt to look at the reminder of Peggy when she had been in her prime, when she had been young and strong and whole, like he'd left her all those years ago; unlike the tired old shell she had become, even though pieces of her sharp mind still remained, it wasn't the same. At least when it came to Howard, he still saw pieces of him in his son; the same brilliance wrapped up in a similarly snarky package. In some ways, Steve suspected that was what made being around Tony so difficult for him; he was a visceral reminder of what could have, should have been. If he had been found back in the 40s, instead of 2012, Tony might have been his godson, and the children Peggy had, might have been his. Those children might have even grown up friends with Tony. Sy didn't really count, because no matter how he sliced it, she was friends with Tony before she became apart of his family, her addition to the Rogers family tree decades belated. He couldn't look at Peggy's face anymore and so he walked away, ignoring Natasha's question.

Marching away, he paused when he felt a slight breeze wafting from behind the shelving units. He strapped his shield more securely to his arm and wrapped his hand around the edge of one of the shelving units.

"If you're already working in a secret office;' he yanked hard, dragging the hidden door out of the way.

"Then why do you need to hide the elevator?"


	14. Chapter 14

_Sy_

She liked Sam Wilson. She really did. He was funny and kind and reminded her a little of Steve, at least, if Steve learned to loosen up a little more. The air force veteran set her up in his spare room with little fuss, mostly offering some quiet commentary on mundane topics like the weather and traffic. He didn't say anything when her violin came out, even before she had done anything more than set her bag down in the spare room. She needed to play for Fury, the music burbling up inside her. The urge to play ached in her chest, an almost physical pain. To release all of her, her, _feelings_ , as a song to settle the grief and pain and confusion and turmoil that was twisting her up like a physical force. She'd expected to feel numb, not this virtual storm of emotion.

Her opinion of Sam Wilson continued to rise as she began to play, tears rolling down her cheeks as she swayed with the music. He sat quietly, listening, tears flowing down his own cheeks as he was affected by the force of her pain, released through the song. She made no effort to reign in her power, allowing herself to wallow and purge. Misery poured out from her strings, her fingers shaking in denial, but still graceful on vibrato notes, while her bow arm shifted aggressively. Sam didn't say a word, just swayed lightly to her music as he listened, patient until she finished. Sy allowed her song to finish abruptly, not unlike how Fury died and when she was done, she couldn't put the violin away fast enough.

When she was done he quietly helped her bandage the still healing gash in her side properly, his hands efficient and practiced. Sy remembered Steve telling her he'd been a soldier. Para-rescue. He knew how to help her, so she let him. Then Sam waited for her to finish unpacking before going and bringing out a guitar. He lead her from the small guest room out to the living room as Sy silently brought out her guitar too. Then they played. Together.

He wasn't half bad. After they played he told her about he had learned to play after he'd gotten home from his last tour of duty as a coping mechanism, never once mentioning how she had literally unleashed her pain through the violin that was now hidden under the guest bed. She'd even talked with him a little about Riley; discussing without specifics what it was like to lose a comrade, a friend. Sy managed to share a little but about Fury, what little she could share that wasn't tainted by the darkness the both of them had spent years fighting. It had a relaxing effect on her, removing some of her burden and releasing it. Besides, it was fun to play music with someone else for no other reason besides pleasure, a beautiful distraction.

The last few months all she had done was practice; training, stretching her limits and expanding her skills in case of another attack. But she'd been attacked by mortals in the streets, and she'd had no choice _but_ to run, first to Camp Half Blood, then to Fury and Steve, and now here, to a quiet suburb with a stranger. But playing now, with Sam, the stranger who had opened his doors to a girl he'd never met before, who had let her grieve violently through her music without batting an eye, she felt lighter than she had in weeks. He had all the makings of a potential new friend. She felt more relaxed than she had been in a long time. It was almost normal; something that she hadn't had since her dad died when she was ten.

And then Steve and Natasha showed up.


	15. Chapter 15

_Steve_

Steve glanced around the neighborhood uncomfortably. The house was in a nice area, and the two bruised and battered ex-agents are incredibly conspicuous, standing on the pristine porch, while dripping blood and shedding building rubble from their clothing. He rapped softly on the door. After a couple moments the door opens a crack, a familiar face peering out.

"Hey man." Sam Wilson said cautiously, standing awkwardly in sweaty running clothes. Steve glanced around the quiet street again before glancing at the one person who could either save or condemn him.

"I'm sorry to ask for another favor; but we need someplace to lay low." Steve said quietly. Nat glanced around warily.

"Everyone we know is trying to kill us." She added helpfully. Sam sighed, glancing up and down the street before stepping back.

"Not everyone."


	16. Chapter 16

_Sy_

She sat up instantly when her finely tuned ears heard a knock at the back door. One hand carefully wrapped around the hilt of her knife, as she silently got out of the bed, creeping towards the hall. When she heard Steve and Natasha's voices she bolted for her bag, quickly changing out of her pajamas and digging out a first aid kit.

She'd spent enough time with soldiers, Hades, she'd _been_ a soldier long enough, to understand know exactly what that tone of voice, what that particular walking gait meant. Opening the bedroom door she ushered the two battered Avengers into the guest room, shooing Sam out to make enough breakfast to refuel a supersoldier with accelerated healing. Then without a word she pushed Natasha to sit down on the bed before forcibly wrestling Steve's sweatshirt off of him, assessing each rapidly healing bruise with an efficiency, that to anyone trained to notice, (which she knew Natasha was) would see as professional and well practiced. As soon as she determined that Steve was mostly okay, and just needed something to eat to make up for his quick healing abilities, she turned to face the redhead.

Of all the Avengers she knew Natasha the best and the worst. She certainly knew her the longest, having met her the night Fury had first contacted her, and then had a hand in some of her SHIELD training when she wasn't at Camp Half Blood. But she'd spent more time with Clint than Natasha, due to the archer simply being more fun to hang out with. Something about the assassin just set her on edge, and if she was honest with herself, she knew it was due in part to the role she had played in getting her thrown off Olympus with damaged wings before being abandoned in the middle of nowhere unarmed. But they had saved the world together, and that kind of bond just can't be ignored. Plus, she'd already told her all about the demigod half of her life, just like she had with all the rest of the team. So as Steve washed the grime off of himself, she opened up the first aid kit and began to methodically patch up the only other female Avenger.

As she worked, Sy noticed something in Nat's eyes change; the virtual fortress that the assassin hid her true emotions and intents behind, cracking under the weight of the building SHIELD had apparently dropped on them. Or maybe it was the weight of the secrets they had been left to carry.

"Hey, you ok?" Sy asked softly. Natasha glanced up at her, the confusion and turmoil in the other woman's eyes nearly bowling her over.

"Yeah." The lie was less smooth than usual, and Sy knew that even if she couldn't hear lies she still would have known better.

"What's going on?" She asked, even while firmly wrapping a bandage around Natasha's bruised ribs. Natasha sighed, looking away.

"When I first joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight. But I guess I just traded in the KGB for HYDRA. I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but...I guess I can't tell the difference anymore." Sy glanced up, surprised by the defeated tone. But pity wasn't something any of them took gracefully, so Sy chose to pick on a different part of the statement.

"HYDRA? I thought they were gone." Sy spit out the name of the organization quickly; praying that naming the terrorist group would not bring the real thing to Sam's door. She seriously doubted that was a level of insanity that Sam was ready for. If she was honest with herself, it was a level of insanity that she doubted Steve or Natasha could handle, even on a good day. And today had _not_ been a good day. Natasha glanced over at the bathroom where the sink was still running. They could both hear the light shuffling of Steve cleaning up.

"No, not as gone as we thought. Turns out after the war, SHIELD invited HYDRA inside its walls and wasn't careful enough to make sure that it wasn't compromised." Sy snorted lightly, rolling her eyes as she gently taped up Natasha's bruised side.

"Every major organization is comprised in someway; it's just a matter of whether or not what's left is worth fighting for." Natasha raised an eyebrow.

"If that's what you think, why do you want to help us?" Sy smiled wryly.

"Maybe because I still see something left that's worth fighting for." She paused for a moment before continuing.

"Besides I've fought Titans and primordial beings, I'm not that afraid of an organization named after a monster I've killed before." At that moment Steve stepped out of the bathroom.

"You what?" He asked incredulously. Sy barely glanced up.

"It was during the war." And then everyone shut up. Because if there was one thing Sy really doesn't talk about, it was the wars.

Finally Natasha broke the awkward silence that had fallen over the three of them. Solemnly looking up, she uttered three quiet words that Sy knew cost her semi-friend to speak.

"I owe you." Steve shook his head slightly, sitting down on the bed next to Sy.

"It's okay." Nat shook her head, looking serious.

"If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life; now you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?" Steve had a small smile on his lips.

"I would now. And even better, I'd trust you with Sy's." Steve smiled at her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, giving her a light squeeze. Sy couldn't help but chip in, even as she shook his arm off so she could finish bandaging a cut on Natasha's wrist.

"And he's Captain America. He's always honest." Her little quip broke the somber mood effectively, all three of them chuckling slightly.

"You know, you're pretty chipper for a guy who just found out he died for nothing." Natasha commented, glancing up at Steve. He shrugged.

"I guess I just like to know who I'm fighting."


	17. Chapter 17

_Sy_

She looks over the images in the files, a smile slowly spreading across her face. She knew there was a reason she liked Sam.

Steve looked towards Sam from where he was looking at the file over her shoulder.

"I thought you said you were a pilot." Sam chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

"I never said pilot." Steve sighed, even as Sy paged through the mission reports, examined the images, photos taken of everything they did from flight to landing to the specs on the machines themselves.

"I can't ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason." Sam laughed.

"Dude, _Captain America_ needs my help. There's no better reason to get back in." Sy glanced up.

"Where can we get our hands on one of these things?" Sam looked mildly surprised by her involvement answered her question anyways.

"The last one is at Fort Meade, behind three guarded gates and a twelve-inch steel wall." She glanced over at Steve and Natasha, who shrugged. Steve had a small smirk on his face.

"Shouldn't be a problem." Sy clapped her hands together and laughed.

"This is going to be _great_."


	18. Chapter 18

_Sy_

Sy leaned back easily in her chair, sipping her drink. She hummed a light tune, gathering power, before pressing dial on the cell phone in her hand. It rang for a moment and she watched as the traitor checked the caller ID before sending his guards away.

 _'Fool.'_ She thought with a malicious grin. A small voice crackled through the speaker.

"Yes, sir?" She smiled to herself for a moment before responding.

"Agent Sitwell, how was lunch? I hear murder can be, well murder on the appetite, but then again, you haven't commited just murder have you? You're also a traitor." She carefully weaves a light compulsion into her voice. She may not have charmspeak, but being the daughter of the muse of eloquence does lend her some power of suggestion.

"Who is this?" Sitwell practically demands as he turns around wildly, looking for the source of the caller. She could practically taste his own puffed up sense of importance, and his arrogance that none of his plans could go wrong. His security in the might of HYDRA. Sy would enjoy taking him down several notches.

"Don't you remember me? I'm hurt Agent Sitwell, after all you tried to have me killed a few weeks ago. Check your ten o'clock." Sitwell turns wildly in the wrong direction. Sy let out a tired sigh. How on earth did SHIELD never realize they were so badly compromised. This idiot didn't even know where his own ten o'clock was and he was an _officer_.

"Your other ten o'clock." She waits until he spots her. She mockingly saluted him with her drink.

"There you go." She said condescendingly, taking another sip of her drink.

"What do you want?" He asked nervously. Sy gently lifted the sunglasses she had perched on her nose to her head as she hummed lightly.

"You're gonna go around the corner, to your right. There's a grey car, two spaces down. You and I are gonna take a short ride."

"And why would I do that?" He asked, even as he began to drift down the stairs. She smirked slightly. She watched as a small red dot appeared on the traitor's chest.

"Because that tie looks really expensive, and I'd hate to let someone mess up." She hung up the phone without waiting for a reply and dropped some cash on the table as she moved to the car where Sam was waiting.


	19. Chapter 19

_Sy_

She pursed her lips tighter as she listened to Sitwell whine as she focused on driving.

The man was _highly_ irritating.

How on earth the traitor ever got promoted to officer was beyond her. They hadn't even hurt him that much, if she had her way, Sy definitely would have hurt him worse. Only reason why he didn't was because Steve forced her to keep her wings under wraps until her armor arrived via Hermes Express. If she's had it her way, Sitwell would have suffered much worse than the tiny, tiny, little drop he took off the roof before Sam caught him.

Sy was far less forgiving of cowards who believed that genocide was an acceptable cost for a 'better' world. She'd been the target of those kinds of beliefs before, from the Titans, to the Giants, to Romans, to everyday monsters; looking to wipe her, her friends and her family off the map. To tear it all down in order to build back up again. Her only consolation was that the magical borders of both camps would be able to protect the demigods. She'd messaged Chiron and warned him of the threat in case the four of them failed at taking down Project Insight. He had reassured her that they were completely hidden from mortals, and that the borders would stop any mortal assault. Magic trumped bullets. But nonetheless, they were recalling every demigod back to the safety of camp's borders until she gave the all clear. Reyna was doing to same, bring everyone they could behind the Pomeranian line until the threat passed.

She prayed it would be enough.

Sy started listening again as Steve began to outline his plan. She groaned quietly. Sitwell _was_ right; it was a terrible idea. But hey, she'd lived through worse. She flicked her eyes to the rearview mirror, and she felt a her chest constrict. Something in her blood changed, as she took note of a dark colored jeep behind their car. She tensed, her instincts screaming at her. Suddenly a heavy thud landed on the roof of the car.

A metal arm punches through the back window, ripping Jasper Sitwell out from his seat between Sam and Natasha. All she processed was the shattering of glass and a scream before bullets began to fly all around them. Sam and Natasha swore violently, ducking closer to the front of the car as Sy slammed on the brakes, hurling their unwanted passenger off the roof of the car.

As the car screeched to a halt, Natasha grabbed for her gun, but before she could shoot, a the jeep she'd first noticed rear ended them, driving the car closer and closer to the masked man in front of them. Sy tightened her grip on the wheel, shifting the car to the accelerator, trying to break free of the car behind them. She jerked the wheel hard, nearly getting away; but the masked man had other ideas. Leaping on top of the car again, a metal arm smashed through the front window, clawing towards her shirt. She screamed reflexively, leaning away. The man grabbed the steering wheel instead, ripping it away.

"Shit!" Sam cried. Sy glanced at Steve as the car swerved around uncontrollably. From the fear and panic on his face, she could see he knew that he couldn't protect them all. Not that he had too. In that split second she of time he had, Sy made a choice. She shoved Sam towards Steve before launching herself out the shattered front window. The car flew into the air as the jeep smashed into them again, flipping over entirely. Sy felt glass shards dig into her skin as she rolled down the highway, the momentum of being thrown from the car propelling her. She grunted as the hot pavement tore at her unprotected arms but she staggered to her feet, mostly ok. Sy ripped off her ruined jacket, tossing it to the ground as she turned to confront the threat, both knives in her hands. She saw Steve and Natasha standing up, after having used the door of the car as a sled, with Sam standing up after falling off the same sled a few yards down.

For a single silent moment nothing happened. Then the masked man was handed a massive grenade launcher. The next few minutes were a haze of bullets and explosions worthy of an A-list action movie. Sy ducked behind stopped cars for cover as she carefully made her way closer and closer to the gunman, knives in hand, wishing she had a ranged weapon. Then she saw Natasha fall over the side of the highway. Abandoning her original plan, Sy didn't think twice before sprinting through the showering hail of bullets to dive over the edge herself. Her wings snapped out and she caught Natasha by the arm and gently dropping her to the ground from a safer distance. The spy gave her a quick nod before running off to distract the Winter Soldier. Sy flitted up the other side of the highway silently, allowing the havoc her friends made to create cover for her. She heard an angry spray of bullets and muttered Russian before the displacement of wind signaled to her that someone had jumped over the edge of the freeway. The flash of sunlight on metal signaled to her that the masked man had leapt over the edge. She took that opportunity to surprise the now much more vulnerable minions.

She landed on the far side of the overpass. Pulling her wings in she crept closer and closer to the darkly uniformed HYDRA agents. Sy watched as the entire row secure rappel harnesses to the overpass before leaping over the edge of the highway. As soon as the last man jumped, she darted forward, her knives slicing through their lines. She felt a twinge of guilt as she heard the screams of dead men. A sudden _pop pop pop_ of gunfire came from behind her and she nearly didn't dive out of the way in time. Somehow she'd missed one of the men. Sy could hear the sound of a scuffle, until the clear loser let out a short scream. She cautiously peaked over the car door she had taken shelter behind. Sam was standing at the edge of the freeway, a gun in hand. It was clear to her that it's previous owner must have gone over the edge; the owner of the scream and thud of his death still echoing in her ears. She stooped down and picked up a gun of her own, and quietly set up her place with it, sighting through the scope carefully to make sure she did it right. Sam looked over at her.

"First time?" He asked. Sy shook her head, her mouth tightly pressed into a thin line. They'd skimmed over why Sy was coming along when they'd left to steal his EXO suit, but she knew Sam was uncomfortable with the fact that she was there.

"I thought this part of my life was over." Sy said softly. Then she took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. Three times. Her bullets found their mark every time, men dropping to the ground like marionettes whose strings were cut. Sam took a sharp breath. She glanced over at him through the corner of her eye. The ex-solider looked shocked, as understanding dawned on his face.

"You're her. The mystery Avenger. Nobody knows your name, nobody had any pictures of you. Most people think you're a conspiracy, a hoax because only a few eyewitness accounts can place you in New York." She sighed, glaring at the rifle as she aimed at the enemy combatants. She wanted to glare at him, but she needed to focus on the battle.

"We're going to keep it that way. I worked hard to maintain my privacy." Sy growled as she pulled the trigger. Sam nodded and began to shoot with her, picking off the HYDRA agents. Sy glanced down to check on Steve. They exchanged a short nod even as Sam shouted to him that they had the situation under control. Together they carefully picked off any HYDRA agents that were threatening civilians when Sy suddenly heard Natasha shouting.

"Get out of the way! Stay out of the way!" She sounded tired and hoarse. Sy glanced down and realized that the Winter Soldier was aiming at Natasha. With a gun that calibre, her friend would be lucky to survive, let alone function again. Demigods were more durable than mortals were. The calculation was easy.

Sy dropped her gun and dove, ignoring Sam's alarmed shout. Her wings snapped out, catching the air and she dove down in time to send both her and Natasha crashing to the ground just as the bullet whizzed past her head. Sy heard him stomping closer and she rolled off her friend, but as she got up a heavy force shoved her back down. Her hand flew to her chest, her hand sticky with blood. As shock rolled through her body, she was vaguely aware that there was fighting going on nearby, but at the moment, she couldn't concentrate on anything but the warm feeling spreading through her as she fell to her knees. She heard the swish of another bullet and somehow was able to roll out of the way. She slowly came aware of herself, at least enough to realize that Nat was hovering in front of her protectively, both of Sy's knives in the redhead's capable hands. She grunts softly and shoves herself up and as Natasha glances back at her in worry, Sy hears a soft question.

"Bucky?" The now unmasked man's dark eyes are hard. Sy's vision was fading but he bore an uncanny resemblance to a photograph she saw once. Through the fog filling her mid, she couldn't quite put her finger on where she knew that face from.

"Who the hell is Bucky?" The soldier snarled. His arm rose, a gun locked on the shocked Captain. Sy let out a sharp whistle expending the last of her demigod advantages, even as she slid down the side of the car, pain and loss of adrenaline making her woozy. She didn't really have the energy to spare on that particular party trick; but the masked man, now unmasked, was distracted for a moment. And that was all she needed to buy. She hears the soft whir of machinery that signaled Sam's arrival, along with the _click, click boom_ that accompanied the explosion from the grenade launcher Natasha had managed to commandeer. As the sirens screamed closer, Sy tips her head back; ignoring the shouting STRIKE team, her hand clenched tightly around her newest bullet wound. She rested her head on the warm metal of the car behind her.

"I hate working with mortals." Sy muttered before passing out.


	20. Chapter 20

_Steve_

He lifted Sy's limp body out of the van carefully, making sure not to jostle the makeshift tourniquet they had tied around her. The stupid girl had taken Nat's shot, and had showed off her wings in a fight against the kind of people who given even _half_ a chance, would tear her apart just to see how see how she works.

Or worse, do to her what they did to Bucky. _Bucky._ Bucky, who was still alive. Bucky, his _best friend_ who had been a prisoner of war for decades. Bucky, who stood on that highway, looked into his eyes and had no idea who Steve was. The same guy who used to rescue him from bullies in the back allies of New York was now the same guy who was the most dangerous assassin _The Black Widow_ had ever heard of. Was the same guy who had shot a teenager through the back. Sy was lucky the shot had hit her so high; there was no chance the bullet went through her heart.

Natasha had her hand wrapped around a knife wound on her side, but that was pretty shallow. Over all the group had escaped unscathed; Sy being the notable exception. Steve was worried that Sy hadn't woken up yet; not even when they had carefully maneuvered her out the bottom of the moving van into a new vehicle that took them to wherever it was that Agent Hill had brought them too. Not for the first time in the last twenty minutes did he wish he had access to the magic healing stuff she'd once told him about. Ambrosia. But he didn't know what it looked like, let alone where to get some. All he'd found when he'd dug through her pockets was a thermos of apple juice. Although it may have been a good thing he didn't find any; he had no idea how much to give her, and he remembered her something about her warning him about spontaneously combusting if she overdosed on the stuff. He glanced down at the pale and unconscious teen. Somehow she'd gotten paler, and blood still seeped through his jacket that they' tied around her, covering his hands. Even with Bucky being alive, he _needed_ her. Sy has become an anchor in this new and unfamiliar future. He may have found his brother, but he didn't know what he would do if he lost his sister at that brother's hands.

As they marched inside, Sam started to shout for a doctor. A man came sprinting down the corridor, two others following behind him dragging a gurney.

"GSW, through and through. She's lost at least two pints." Agent Hill said, in her usual calm detached tone. Sam moved quickly alongside her.

"Maybe three. She needs help. Now." Steve's arms tightened involuntarily around Sy's unconscious body; his trust in strangers, even former allies, was completely shot to hell. But he knew if he didn't hand her over, she would die. He placed her down gently onto the gurney, and the doctors began to work. Medical terms and orders began flying, not that he understood most of what was being said. But he only needed to take a look at the doctor's grim expressions to know that it was bad. Maybe even worse than he was already thinking. Steve moved to follow the stretcher, as another doctor started trying to patch up Natasha when Agent Hill redirected them all.

"Wait. They'll want to see him first."


	21. Chapter 21

_Sy_

She came to with a heavy groan. Glancing around, she recognized the cave system she was in. It was the same place she and Fury had first met.

 _'I guess he took me at my word that this place was safe.'_ She mused as she ripped the IV line out of her arm and began pulling the different wires off of her. The monitors she was disconnecting herself from started to beep wildly. She ignored them, tuning out the high pitched alarms the best she could. The sluggishness of her limbs signaled to her that she was on some incredibly heavy painkillers.

Sy reached over slowly, careful not to jostle her newly patched up bullet wound and dug through the pile of her belongings on the chair next to her. She found the thermos of nectar and took a long sip, the taste of buttery movie popcorn washing over her taste buds. Even after all her years as a demigod, it was still odd to experience movie popcorn as a drink, especially when nectar looked like apple juice.

 _'It has been the month of bullet holes.'_ She though to herself with a slight giggle, morphine still coursing through her system even as the godly drink burned away the sedative while repairing her injuries. She took another careful sip, stopping when she began to feel feverish. It would have to be enough. Sy had bigger things to worry about than bullet wounds and overdosing on godly food.

* * *

Staggering down the hall, she used her superior hearing to pinpoint where the others were. She walked silently to the entrance of the room the others were meeting in. A briefcase lay open on the table, three shiny computer chips inside, facing the others.

"...maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left..." Her heart stuttered for a moment as she caught sight of Nick Fury, alive and mostly well. At least, well enough that he was once more trying to assert his authority over a situation he had no control over.

 _'Classic._ ' She leaned heavily against the doorway; really more of a rough entryway from one cave to another, listening to the conversation.

"We're not salvaging anything. We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we're taking down SHIELD." Steve's voice was hard. Fury looked incredulous.

"SHIELD had nothing to do with it." He responded angrily. Steve shook his head.

"You gave me this mission, this is how it ends. SHIELD's been compromised, you said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed."

"Why do you think we're meeting in this cave? _I noticed_." Sy resisted the urge to snort derisively at that statement. She doubted noticing had little to do with the location, so much as the assassination attempt had. After all, you can't kill a dead man.

"And how many paid the price before you did?" Steve countered fiercely. Sy felt the shock of finding the director alive begin to wear off. After all, it was like she had said the day before. Bastard was too stubborn to die. Fury sighed.

"Look, I didn't know about Barnes."

"Even if you had, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too? SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes."

"He's right." Sy spoke up from her place in the doorway. Everyone jumped slightly, startled. As they noticed that it was her in the doorway, jumpy hands slowly moved away from handguns and hidden knives. Steve took a step in her direction, looking like he was gearing up to lecture her about staying in bed. She cut him off by raising one hand. Steve's mouth snapped shut, as she fixed a hard look on the former director of SHIELD.

"Nick, this is it. The end of the line. SHIELD had its chance, in fact, it had a lot of chances. But you let a cancer grow within it, and now there's nothing _left_ to salvage. The world needs something new. And while you had a role in it's creation, you don't have a place in it anymore." Fury glances around the room, finding no support from any of them, not even with Agent Hill. When he finally made it to Sam, the Falcon crossed his arms across his chest, nodding towards Steve.

"Don't look at me. I do what he does, just slower." Fury sighed in defeat.

"Well... Looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain."


	22. Chapter 22

_Sy_

She crouched on top of the Triskelion, fingering the steel knives strapped to her sides. Hermes had come through; a package with all her armor inside, arrived shortly after a conversation she'd had with Steve outside the hidden cave systems, on top the defunct dam.

* * *

"Do you know why I told you no?" She'd walked silently, coming up behind him. He didn't startle though, too many years of war and battle does that to a soldier. Ingrains some strange sixth sense, a different kind of awareness of their surroundings. Steve probably knew that she was on the dam from the moment she set foot on it. She wondered what parts of Bucky hurt him the most. That fact that he was alive all this time, or the idea that the soldier wearing his face may never recover the pieces of self that had made him Steve's best friend.

"I understand." He said shortly. He was still angry with her. They'd spent the last few hours arguing over their plan, Sy determined not to allow SHIELD to fall without something to fill it's place and Steve trying to convince her to use her gifts to prevent as much fighting as possible. Sy had adamantly refused to force HYDRA agents to surrender with her music. She'd been equally uncompromising in how they were dismantling SHIELD. They were not going to dump everything onto the internet for the world to see. Some information was better left unknown. They'd finally settled on calling Pepper and borrowing one of Stark Industries information warehouses; a safe place to hold it until they figured out what to do with it. Steve had reluctantly agreed to her modified plan, but had left soon after fuming. She'd given him a half hour to cool down before going to find him.

Sy sighed, coming to a stop next to Steve, her own gaze fixed on the cold concrete walls that made up the empty reservoir.

"But do you _know_ Steve?" She asked him. He stood silently, hands tucked into his pockets. They both knew she was right, that they couldn't just destroy the massive global peacekeeping intelligence agency without something to fill the gap the loss would leave behind. But it also meant that to do so would have unfortunate consequence of taking longer to destroy HYDRA than Steve planned. It would mean more casualties in the battle too. Although that was mostly because Sy wouldn't hear any argument anyone made to her about using her music to manipulate the HYDRA agents. Sy folded her arms around herself, even though her spin stayed ramrod straight. Military perfect posture. She released a long breath through her nose.

 _"_ Look _,_ people are different. _This_ is different. It's not going to be like fighting off alien invaders hellbent on genocide or protecting groups of civilians from becoming collateral damage, or even infusing someone with the courage to fight another day. I can't, I _won't_ , override free will on this scale, to force the enemy to surrender against their will. That would make me just as bad as Fury, as bad as _HYDRA_. These people have made their choices, and the battle lines are drawn. There's a price to pay for freedom Steve; because it's not really freedom if only some of us have it. Using my magic wouldn't be influencing anyone, it would be brainwashing them; and I won't do that. Steve, I didn't even use my music when camp knew there was a traitor listening to every plan we made during the war. It's a line I can't uncross, so I will never _ever_ cross it." Steve stood there silently. She stood behind him rigidly, her back straight and her expression stony. She finally crossed into the real reason he was angry she wouldn't use her powers of _influence_ to affect mortal minds.

"I know you want him back. But whoever he used to be might not be underneath whatever he is now. Even if I was willing too, I don't know if there's anything I could do to bring Bucky back. He's been brainwashed enough, and what I would do to him wouldn't undo any of it. I'd just end up adding another layer of trauma to his psyche. _Maybe_ I can influence him to help some kind of trauma treatment; but nothing I do would help him in the middle of a battle. I don't even know if there's anything _left_ to save. Steve, you might have to _stop_ him. And it's probably a mercy to the person he used to be to do so." Steve shook his head sadly.

"I don't know if I can do that." Sy didn't relax, as her own dark memories began to resurface.

"He might not give you that choice. " She said gently. Taking a deep breath, she continued, pushing her memories aside.

"I know I didn't usually get one when I was forced to face people I'd considered family for years. Not all of them lived. Some of them died on _my_ sword. Their blood on _my_ hands. Knowing all along I could have stopped them. If only I had played. And I wonder every day if it was worth it. My soul, for their lives." Sy stopped talking abruptly, her lips pursed together tightly as she struggled to manage the onslaught of horrific memories that was the five days of sheer hell they endured during the Battle of Manhattan.

"But they would have been reduced to puppets, enslaved to me until I stopped playing for long enough. And that was wrong too." Steve glanced at her sympathetically, blue eyes softening at the pain in her voice. He tugged her into a tight hug.

"I won't ask you to play like that again." His eyes tightened determinedly, his expression resolute as he stepped back from her.

"But I know Bucky can be saved. And I'm going to do it" Steve seemed so sure, so certain that his best friend wouldn't force his hand that Sy nearly believed him. Steve turned away, returning to contemplating the walls around them, his expression thoughtful rather than angry now.

"I hope so. For your sake as much as his." She whispered before walking away, passing Sam who was on his way out to talk to Steve; Sy strongly suspected that it was to have a similar conversation to the one she'd just had.

"He's going to be there you know. And you have your girl to think about..." Sy shook her head as she tuned out the rest of their conversation.

* * *

Sy heard Steve's voice echo across the grounds, his voice passionate and strong. Absolute in his belief that good people, that SHIELD, would fight back. That they would reclaim the freedom that the parasite within was trying to take. Freedom, the only thing she wasn't willing to take, even to prevent the bloodshed about to take place.

"...the price of freedom is high. It always has been, and it's one I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it. But I'm willing to bet I'm not." As the last echo of Steve's speech drifted across the silent water Sy stood up, pulling her helmet down over her head; both for her protection and to conceal her identity from any eye witnesses. She knew The Mist would deal with most everything else, including camera footage. Suddenly there was a horrible rumbling sound, and Sy knew that HYDRA had made its move. Now, freedom's debt was coming due.

She slowly spread her wings out, the celestial bronze plating covering them glittering in the warm April sun. She leapt off the roof, swooping down easily to where she could spot Steve and Sam racing out of the Triskelion. Steve threw one of the chips into the air, and her wings snapped, beating powerfully to propel her towards her teammates. As she dove past she heard Sam's incredulous shout as she easily caught the chip that she needed to get into the helicarrier control system.

She soared easily towards the first carrier, spinning and dodging the bullets and grenades flying at her through the air, the unprepared HYDRA agents scrambling to organize themselves enough to shoot her out of the air. But it was enough to distract her, and to prevent her from reaching her target.

She snapped her wings back, dropping into a steep dive, twitching feathers to spin her slightly, as she rapidly gained speed. At the last possible moment she pulled up and out of the maneuver, coming to a running landing along the top of the helicarrier. She ripped her knives out of their sheaths and got to work. The next few minutes was a haze of clashing steel, bullets and HYDRA agents falling. She ran and jumped over the edge of the carrier, flitting between different levels, making her way to the main control panel. She distantly heard explosions and the occasional whir of Sam's EXO suit. She finally made it into the control center, and with a single sharp whistle, disabled the few guards inside it.

She pulled down the central terminal and replaced the targeting systems with the one she'd gotten from Steve. Sy took a running leap from the carrier in time to avoid the backup agents that had finally arrived as they tried to shoot her out of the sky. Sy pulled out a cell phone from her pocket. She prayed briefly to Tyche, the goddess of fortune, that one short phone call wouldn't attract monsters to her location. They were busy enough with mortal threats; she didn't need to add a mythological element to the fight. She dialed.

"Hill. Sy, status report?" Came the curt voice.

"Alpha locked." She reported before hanging up, tossing the phone onto the deck of the still rising helicarrier. Sy suddenly folded her wings, dropping a dozen feet as she heard the faint displacement of air before she saw the missiles. They missed her and hit a SHIELD plane, swooping down she caught the pilot, dropping him off on the deck of the helicarrier. The man saluted her before sprinting off, pistol in his hands. Flying off she kept careful note of her surroundings. Sy knew HYDRA wasn't going to stop attacking just because she'd accomplished her primary goal. She pumped her wings harder, taking complex evasive maneuvers as she made her way to Sam's carrier. She spotted him diving quickly and dropped down to follow. She spotted what had made him dive in the first place.

Steve.

The idiot man had jumped off the side of the helicarrier, even as parts of it exploded above him. Sy tucked her wings and dove, praying that one of them would get there in time.

Sam did. He grabbed Steve by the arm, letting out a loud roar of defiance as he strained to carry Steve back to the relative safety of the helicarrier. Sy smirked slightly at that. Demigod strength had its perks.

She landed next to them, the three of them running along the top of the carrier.

"You know, you're a lot heavier than you look." Sam complained. Steve laughed.

"I had a big breakfast." Sy snickered from the other side.

"Or Sam's out of shape. I've carried you before with no problem." She teased lightly to cover the shaking of her voice. Even though he was fine, a momentary panic that had overtaken her at the sight of her surrogate brother falling thousands of feet above the ground. The anxious feeling had yet to fully recede. Then she heard the quiet wind of a falling person. She had just enough time to shout out a warning.

"Steve!" But it was too late. Bucky had caught them all by surprise, and had thrown Steve off the side of the carrier before they could even blink. Her and Sam didn't even glance at each other before they moved into action. Sam leapt after Steve and she tackled the Winter Soldier. But what they weren't counting on was his ability to multitask. His metal arm shot out to snag Sam's wing, ripping it off while throwing him back onto the deck of the helicarrier, even as he took several hard hits from her. Then in the next second, he backhanded her hard enough to send her skidding. Sam unloaded his guns on Bucky, who ducked behind cover. Sy threw one of her knives at him, and it rebounded off the tough body armor he wore. She opened her mouth and sang a soft aria, pushing peace and calm through the music; her voice a powerful tool against mortal minds. Except this time it didn't work.

Bucky shook it off after a momentary pause. Sy's heart ached. There were very few reasons that a mortal, even an enhanced one, could resist her music. Almost all of them were horrific. She launched herself at the soldier, but was backhanded away from him. She tumbled across the deck, one of the muscles in her back pulling tightly as she landed on her right wing a little funny.

The next thing she saw was Sam being hurled over board, his suit damaged and no longer suitable for flight. Sy didn't even hesitate; quickly diving after him. But she'd learned her lesson, watching Sam fight. She kept her wings folded in until she'd caught up to Sam. With one arm, she caught him, then snapped her wings out; grunting in pain at the harsh jerk their combined bodyweight caused her injured body. She was fairly certain something tore in her newly healed wounds. The hand that hadn't grabbed for Sam reached for her chest, rubbing the bullet wound through her armor.

"Ow." She muttered, even as she carefully swooped down, carrying them both to the ground, even while Sam checked in with Steve; who apparently managed to stay aboard the last helicarrier.

"I'm grounded, the suit is down. Sy too, her side and shoulder are bleeding pretty bad. Sorry Cap." Sam said into his earpiece even as she glared at the Falcon. She hissed in pain as she shook out her strained wings, but besides the two _minor_ flesh wounds, she was a-okay.

"Sam, you keep her down there. I don't care what she says. Don't let her try to charge back in." Sy heard the voice come in over the earpiece and Sy resisted the urge to snarl. She knew it was because Steve cared, but it was still irritating. They were in the middle of a fight, they didn't have the time to waste on Steve's big brother syndrome. But they didn't have time to argue about it either.

"Fine. I'm grounded too. But I'm not useless. Come on Sam. We have some HYDRA agents to take down." And without a backwards glance, she raced back towards the Triskelion.


	23. Chapter 23

_Sy_

She listened with total disgust as Rumlow went on and on about order and pain. Sam finally snapped, and told him to shut the hell up. The two men attacked each other, exchanging vicious blows. Sy silently slipped around the corner of the room just as they'd planned. She scanned the room and her eyes widened. Slipping her knife back into it's sheath, she bent down cautiously and picked up the handgun that had been left forgotten on the floor. She slowly slid the safety off and aimed carefully, waiting until Sam had backed up enough for her to fire safely. She took a deep breath and fired.

Once.

Twice.

Three times...

Three neat little holes appeared on the HYDRA agent's exposed chest. Sy triggered the mag release before dropping the weapon with shaking hands, and the gun and it's rounds clattered to the floor separately. Not exactly safe, but in that moment she didn't really care. Her breath shuddered out of her unsteadily, and when Sam tried to approach she backed away quickly, her hands held up in the universal symbol to prove one is unarmed and not dangerous. Her hands shook slightly and she turned away. Killing mortals never got easier; but this time it was worse. She'd _known_ this one. Brock Rumlow had been Steve's friend, or so they'd all thought. He had been by the apartment several times in the weeks she had been staying there for various reasons, always polite, always stopped to say hello. She's played for him once. Used to laugh at his jokes. Something about the agent had always set her on edge, his words leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, but she didn't exactly _dislike_ him. She just hadn't trusted him. But it didn't matter, because not matter all that, she'd _known_ him. And she'd killed him without blinking.

Sy turned away from the bloody scene, glancing out the window. She took a sharp breath as she realized that the falling helicarriers were headed straight for the side of the building they were standing in. Everything else inside of her melted away, cold purpose rushing through her, contrasting with the burning adrenaline. Reacting quickly, Sy grabbed Sam, ignoring his surprised shout, and crashed out the windows, flapping hard; desperately trying to get clear of the crash zone. Explosions and gunfire rang in her ears, the stench of gunpowder and smoke filling her nose.

Something hot hit her in the back, and it sent her tumbling through the sky uncontrollably. Even as she spun through the air, trying desperately to use her wings to shield Sam's much more fragile mortal body, she felt her vision go hazy. Then an explosion boomed behind them, the sound resonating through her skull, deep into her bones. Her head burned hot, a warm _something_ filling her left ear. The force of it shoved her even further out of control. There was nothing but pain as she struggled to manage the excessive auditory input she was receiving. Her wings beat sluggishly at the air, but all her strength was gone. She curled herself tightly around Sam, determined to at least protect him. She tipped her body so that she was beneath him, angled her wings to try and control their free fall towards the river. At the right angle, they both might survive. Then, all she knew was darkness and pain.


	24. Chapter 24

_Sy_

When she woke up, the first thing she noticed was that she was wet. Pushing herself up with a groan, she absently noted that most of her celestial bronze armor had been blown off in pieces by the sheer force of the explosion. And her crash landing. She was afraid to even look at the mess her wings must be. She could feel hot blood dripping down her back and a dull throbbing, but not much else. It wasn't a good sign. Glancing around, she spotted Sam, passed out a few dozen yards away, parachute lines tangled around them both. He must have managed to deploy it after she'd been incapacitated.

Behind her came heavy breathing, and Sy sucked in a howl of pain as she tried to draw a knife. Her wrist was broken, at the very least. She took careful note of the areas of her body that were in the most, least and in no amount of pain before shifting herself to try and protect herself as best she could. When she looked up, Bucky had dropped Steve's unconscious body next to her. He paused, watching Steve with an intensity she didn't quite understand. He must have seen whatever it was he was looking for, because suddenly he turned away. As he moved to leave, Sy spoke up.

"I give it a week before he's well enough that nobody will be able to stop him from looking for you." Sy said hoarsely. He didn't move.

"And Steve; well I owe him. So I'm going to help. And I have considerably more powerful resources than he does." She paused again, as Bucky turned towards her slightly, his face completely blank. It hurt her to see him like that, because in all of his stories, in all the photos she'd seen, Bucky was always so lively and warm, while this shell was frozen. Cold. Blank. _Empty_.

She groaned, trying to sit up, straining to check on Steve. It worried her that he hadn't woken up yet. Her arms shook and collapsed under her, sending her back down onto the muddy river bank. Blood flowed from various places on her body. She knew that if it wasn't for the shock and adrenaline she'd be in agonizing pain. The frown on Steve's former friend tightened, lips pinching into a thin line.

"Besides. Steve's been my legal guardian for a while now. What kind of kid would I be, not to help him look for my Uncle Bucky." Sy pulled on the cover story Fury had concocted for her, what felt like forever ago. The Winter Soldier didn't move, standing eerily quiet, watching her with dark, haunted eyes. She pushed herself up again, trying to get upright. She knew moving was probably making her injuries worse, but she wanted to meet the man on equal ground. Through sheer demigod stamina, and willpower she made it to her feet. Or mostly to her feet.

"We're both with you until the end of the line Sergeant. So I give you a week to start screwing your head on straight. Or a week to figure out how to hide from me and mine." Sy watched as the Winter Soldier trudged away, as she swayed in the mud, on the brink of blacking out. She heard the _chop chop chop_ of a helicopter grow louder and louder as it drew closer, and tipped her head up to watch Fury and Natasha fly towards them. She waited until they were on the ground, waited until she knew she was safe, that they were climbing towards her and the two injured out men she was trying to guard, before she passed out again.


	25. Chapter 25

_Epilogue: Sy_

She'd told Bucky one week. In reality, it was three days before Steve started hunting down leads. But he was also busy dealing with the fallout that came with completely reinventing the largest global peacekeeping organization in the world over the course of a day. So by her count, it was more like a month before the searches started in earnest. At least, on Steve's side of things. Although he had the help of the new SHIELD. They kept the name after a week of arguing; the name SHIELD held clout that a new name wouldn't. Steve was unhappy that any part of the old regime was left, but Sy didn't care. They couldn't leave a power vacuum where SHIELD stood; that would have just _invited_ trouble.

Not that she'd been there for most of it, or any of it. She'd been forced to Iris Message with Steve to help with building the new organization while she'd healed from her injuries. She'd been forced to return to Camp the day after the fall of SHIELD, needing a real healer to help her with the extensive injuries she'd been dealt; especially to her wings. Even now, nearly six months later, she still couldn't fly even though everything else had healed. Not that her grounding had prevented her from keeping her promise to Bucky; and the one she'd made to Steve as soon as she was well enough to IM him.

Steve was moving to New York, to the Avengers tower along with most of the other Avengers after all the committee hearings and court procedures were over. He said it was to be with the team, which was gathering to help finish the fight with HYDRA Steve and her had started; but Sam confided to her that he thought it was to be closer to Camp; so if she got hurt again she'd be closer to help. Tony had agreed to start going through all of HYDRA's files to look for Bucky and Sy called in a few of the favors that she had stacked up. Steve mentioned to her all the various ways the others chipped in to help; Natasha and Clint calling in favors of their own, Sam's steady support, Bruce lending his time to help Tony sort through the crazy amount of data they had dumped onto an outside server to mine through. Even Fury, working to deal with terrorists abroad, pitched in from time to time with 'anonymous' tips.

And it had _worked_.

Sy now stood outside an apartment building in one of the less gentrified areas of Brooklyn; in fact, she wasn't too far from where Steve and Bucky had actually grown up. She knocked once; and listened to the tense rustle of movement inside. He was nervous, she could tell from the rapid flutter of his heartbeat. Sy softly strummed the guitar she'd brought with her, wincing slightly at the pull in her still damaged back. Will Solace had told her that had she been mortal, she would have been completely paralyzed; that is if she hadn't died. Sam had told her, as soon as she was conscious again, through Steve, that if it wasn't for her, _he_ would be paralyzed. Or dead. And that she would never be grounded; if her wings didn't heal, he would work with Tony to build Sy her own EXO suit. It was a sweet thought, but Sy knew that with time, she would fly again. On her own two wings. But it was nice to know that the other winged avenger had her back. She ran her hands over the body of the guitar, feeling the rush of familiar warmth that came to her before she wove power into music.

Instruments had always been her most powerful tool. Sy smiled as her fingers danced across the board, carefully building her song. As she plucked out the soft tune, she began to transmit a sense of calm and peace and trust with a healthy dose of courage. She wasn't sure if that part was for her or for him. As she slowly finished the song, the door creaked open.

The haunted blue eyes of James Buchanan Barnes stared out at her.

Sy smiled.

"Hey Bucky."


End file.
